


building up to the quiet

by maevestrom



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: All characters are in their 30s, Best Friends, Cooking, Dancing, Except the kids but you knew that, F/F, Famous Dancers, Farmland, Fate, First Meetings, Gender Identity, Nighttime, Other, Performance Art, Reunions, Sapphism/Lesbianism, Throwing the Bouquet, Traditions, Unrequited Love, Weddings, Wine, nb!Robin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:14:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21816478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maevestrom/pseuds/maevestrom
Summary: The wedding is humble, yet delightful nonetheless, between an old friend/dance partner of Olivia- a professional dancer hardened by celebrity and anxiety- and the best friend/unrequited love of Sumia- a cheerful farmer with as much passion as confusion and disgust in herself. Over the course of the night, the two meet and are tied up in Attache Bouquet, an old tradition that seeks to write their story for them before they have even finished closing the pages of this one.There's nothing to do but say a prayer, have some faith, and let the show go on.
Relationships: Cordelia/Sumia (one-sided), Lissa/Sully (passing), Maribelle/Serge | Cherche, My Unit | Reflet | Robin/Tiamo | Cordelia, Olivia/Azura (referenced), Olivia/Robin (past), Olivia/Sumia
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	building up to the quiet

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to celebrate the end of this year, the year of our lord 2019, with something that thanked... really, everyone who inspired me. Every queer person, specifically. I wanted to tackle a lot of the things they made me think of, what they gave me... who they helped me to be. And I wanted to give that all back to them in my own way.
> 
> I hope I did that.

This is one of the nicest venues that Olivia has ever worked. 

Maybe not financially- she’s been invited to grand high-class parties and extravagant concert halls alike. Dancing has always been her thing- the one thing she’s good at and would continue to be. She’s built a level of fame and invested enough time and effort into it to be able to visit these places and make good pay doing it. 

Still, this… this is probably going to be one of her favorite jobs. 

Weddings are unusual for her, especially ones this humble. The two brides picked a place in the countryside but it looks more like someone’s house. It’s easy to tell that a friend invited them there given how effortlessly a woman with mink hair that bordered on mauve (if Olivia’s style lessons in color theory were correct- she couldn’t bring herself to say gray-purple) moved in and out of the house, yard, fields, and sets of stables. Funnily enough, she seems more jittery than the brides, always moving when she doesn’t need to and giddily tripping over her words, especially around the burgundy-haired bride after the initial ceremony when she and her partner officially wed. Olivia, a bundle of nerves on her best day, could definitely relate.

The altar that the brides tied the knot at, lone in a gently weathered field of dead grain, is the stage that Olivia is set to perform at. If she counts the chairs correctly, the audience will be of twelve people, the chairs arranged in a semi-circle around the stage as they were during the ceremony. It's the kind of homegrown venue that she hasn't performed at in her thirteen years of professional dance or even in her high school days. 

Still, not only was the rustic charm something she was fond of, but the wedding itself was a must for Olivia. It's not often that she attends an openly queer wedding, but being a lesbian herself, it's incredibly endearing. Not only that, the second bride- a silky-haired person named Robin who paled in height in comparison to their towering bride if not in radiance- was her dance partner over a decade ago when she was just starting out. Olivia was raised well-off and attended the same private college Robin did as she took the steps to be professional. Olivia tries not to think of the fact that Robin… well, is less well-off than before. It coincides with Robin only coming to terms with their sexuality and gender identity when they interacted, even as it was the one thing Olivia was never closed-off about.

She hopes it's just a coincidence.

She can't believe it.

She also couldn't believe that Robin called her up willing to pay full-price. Her full price has been in the thousands, such is celebrity; even more if she was to teach (which was rare and very private). She offered reflexively to do it for free, but Robin is… _bad_ at taking gifts, so they compromised enough to pay for Olivia's travel expenses since she lived in the neighboring nation. 

Now that she's here, she surmises that the wedding alone was worth it. There wasn't a moment that Robin looked less than blissful. When they were younger, neither showed much emotion other than panic and nervousness as they stumbled around each other. Now, Robin showed her that bliss could accompany peace, glee, giddiness, comfort, excitement, nervousness, and love especially, and she isn't sure what to do with that. Emotions are still hard for Olivia to share externally- even as she's grown to be less anxious and frightened by shyness and stage fright, she's hidden it behind a reserved veneer. 

She's onstage in thirty minutes. She reckons that with the okay of the homeowner, she'd move into a dressing room in whatever form and start getting dressed in her dancing clothes. She already picked out her most glamorous (fur-free) cream-colored coat over a simple egg-white sleeveless dress that covers her from head to toe. It accents her mane of pink hair (and the new rose gold streak) very well. Her dancer's outfit isn't nearly as chaste or individual, but it will do. 

Besides, a lot of the guests are women, and even around the ones visibly torqued, she feels safer. It was one of the first things that made her question her own sexuality, how much being around women, getting attention from women, attracting women, just made her feel more serene and accomplished than the same scenarios from men did. 

She walks into the house with a quiet _pardon-me_ around a tuxedoed salmon-haired beauty who lets her by with a regal flourish that makes her blush. She has to find her way into the kitchen to run into the mink-haired lady from earlier inspecting some (homemade?) baked good laid to rest over the stove. She looks up at Olivia with a smile both cheerful and sad. Olivia instinctively wonders which emotion is a ruse, but neither seems inauthentic. 

"Hi!" she says, finger on her chin. Already Olivia senses a vulnerable amount of personality from her. Tapping her finger, she says "Uhm, Olivia, right?" 

Olivia nods. 

"Nice to meet you!" She holds out her hand. "I'm Sumia!" 

Olivia finds her own handshake to be firm and stilted like a wooden block, but it softens beneath Sumia's warm and loose grip. Olivia uses that time to take a closer look at Sumia. She isn't like a lot of the women that Olivia meets, who are both extravagant and know it, spiritually a million bucks and coyly interested to see who can afford them. Sumia isn't like that. She's very quaint, dressed up in a large-yet-barely-fitting lily-white cardigan and light jean skirt with pockets over a pair of white leggings around thick legs. Her skin is dark but lighter than Olivia’s own. Her hair hugs her back, slick with sweat, and the start of wrinkles and crow's feet tease at her face, looking near Olivia's own age of thirty-three. Olivia deduces that her looks have as much personality as Sumia herself- an oddly disarming amount. 

Olivia smiles. She can't help it and doesn't really care to. Sumia seems like she could be fun.

"I perform in about thirty minutes," she says. 

Sumia nods, letting her hand go. "Just in time for the brownies to finish and for me to get out there!" 

"Probably!" Olivia offers. She looks at the treat on the stove- not brownies, but lemon bars. "I guess you like to cook?" 

"Oh, love cooking! My kitchen is my third home, just after the stables." Then she blushes, voice slowing pensively. "Though they're both in my _home_ home so I just… have a nice home."

Olivia giggles. "Oh, that's good!" Then she remembers what she meant to ask. "Oh! Uhm, I, uhm…" Damn her getting flustered at herself. "I need a place to change! Can you, maybe…" 

Sumia smiles. It's more authentic than before. Olivia thinks it's sweet that she's making Sumia more cheery. Maybe a new friend? Olivia’s wheels are spinning, but she keeps getting flashes of something a little too indulgent, thoughts she doesn’t like.

Then she hears Sumia say "It's just to the left down the hall. No one's using it. The brides have a hotel reserved for nearby and no one else is staying here so it's empty."

Olivia blinks. She sighs as she hates asking people to repeat themselves because of her obliviousness. It reminds her of how bad she is with people. Still, professionally, she's obligated to ask "Sorry, what is it again?" 

Sumia notices Olivia's spaciness with a forgiving smile as sudden as it is kind. "The guest bedroom! I was saying how it doesn't have a lock on it but no one's gonna barge in." Then she blushes. "Sorry, I get a little rambly when I'm nervous."

She's nervous? Olivia isn't sure why but doesn't press. "Yeah, I just get kind of… quiet." Perking up, she says "B-but thank you! I should probably go." After all, she's closer to twenty-five minutes now.

Sumia nods. "It was fun talking to you! I can't wait to see you dance, Robin has talked about it a _lot_!" 

Olivia giggles. She's heard compliments like that a lot, but Sumia sounds as doe-eyed as she looks. It's endearing. "I'll, uhm…" She starts to feel flustered again, and damn, it's like she's still young and shy at any interaction. "I'll do my best! Take care!" 

Olivia hears a "you too!" during her brisk walk to the guest room, suitcase quickly nabbed from the closet Robin said they put it in. She closes the door, pulls her outfit out- a chalkboard-black skirt, set of pantyhose, and form-fitting slightly translucent black shirt that hangs over her navel. More humble than her usual skin-heavy attire since it's a wedding and her priority isn't secretly to woo a night out of any of the women there, but still sensual enough to celebrate a night like tonight. 

She realizes as she's sitting on the periwinkle sheets atop the bed that Sumia didn't make her nervous to talk to. Oh, Olivia made _herself_ plenty nervous, yes, but usually, when she has to talk to anyone she gets either very stiff or tongue-tied. Sumia is… easy. 

Olivia's thankful for that. No one from the wedding is even Feroxi, nor is there anyone Olivia knows save Robin, and it's unfair to ask Robin to be her tether when it's their wedding. Sumia… Sumia's someone she doesn't mind tethering herself to in such an aimless and beautiful ceremony. 

If she'll let her. 

\---

Sumia doesn't drink much. She doesn't really want to. She doesn't really mention this because it's embarrassing, but she used to be a moderate drinker. Not to alcoholic extents, no- Sumia's moms always taught her to play it safe. Still, she's looser when she drinks. Not sexually! (Well, not substantially, at least. It would be lying to say she doesn't have a _little_ fun.) But Sumia likes keeping her feelings close to the vest. When they get out of control… well, it’s not good. She doesn’t like having secrets in the first place, much less sharing them.

Maybe the gods can permit her one glass of wine.

Even though they’re at the reception under a large white canopy that Sumia has made sure isn't going anywhere, Robin and Cordelia don’t really indulge in the wine either, even though Lissa and Sully are on their fourth glasses each and have lost track of whose is whose- thank the gods that Frederick will pick them up. Of the brides, Robin rarely drinks and Cordelia, painfully and lovably chaste as she is, never has until now. Even then, it’s just a glass. Cordelia says something unsuitably formal like “given the situation, I would rather not be too drunk to be available” as she always does. 

As _also_ is always the case, she is the last one to get the implications of her statement. She doesn’t seem to get why others are laughing until Robin sweetly grabs her arm and jokes “I’m sure you’ll be fine,” too kind to be sultry but never once embarrassed by her. It makes Sumia swoon a little. She really _is_ happy for Cordelia. Robin is a dream for her. Witty, clever, into the same things she is, and validating to the point of unconditional love.

If Sumia wasn’t so caught up in her feelings for Cordelia, she probably would have them for Robin.

Cordelia blushes, the look deeper under the line of fluorescent light bulbs all on the inside, saying “I certainly hope they didn’t think I intended for the wrong idea.”

Robin takes a sip, surprised by the kick even four in (each of which Sumia absently counted). “I don’t honestly think it matters, Cordie. We’re both grown.” 

Cordelia smiles shyly. How one can be so hard and soft at once, Sumia will never know. “Yes, of course, dearest.”

Sumia honestly enjoys watching them. She’s always loved their dynamic, even as much as she had feelings for Cordelia. They'd been dating for four years before Cordelia asked Sumia's advice on if it was too soon to propose. (Too soon! How like her to be concerned about such.) It was amazing that her crush on her childhood friend had died to a flickering flame at that point enough for her to enthusiastically tell Cordelia that _yes, absolutely propose you freakin' goof, you will never get an opportunity like this again!_

Sumia has always loved Cordelia. In some ways, romantically, but love has been consistent since they knew each other as kids. Cordelia was her first friend in a friendless world, where no one but her cared to comfort, challenge, and encourage the clumsy, awkward horse girl. Sumia grew to realize that Cordelia was as shaky around people, often too formal, distant, and aggressive to attract many more friends than Sumia. 

Sumia couldn’t grasp that. Cordelia was so perfect. She was a fantastic athlete, from track and field to volleyball, while Sumia couldn’t go too far without tripping over her own feet. She was an enviable orator, valedictorian of their high school, while Sumia babbled and flustered herself out of every conversation that wasn’t with a friend. Yet… Cordelia has always been so proud of her, and whenever she made an effort to show Sumia off, it fanned the flames in her heart that screamed that she would just… love to be Cordelia’s. 

Still… as much as selfish love flooded her heart and took her breath away, love was always the one consistent thing throughout the years- the decades. Sumia reasoned that even though she’s had those times where she might have been _in_ love… nothing would be more loving than to let her go with the perfect companion for her. 

Sumia just knew that she could never be perfect for Cordelia. 

It was the right decision. Yet it still hurts in a dull, distant way that doesn’t stop her unless she thinks about it. Right now, she can’t help but think about it, and since she can’t escape to bake more things or feed her precious Belfire, she can only hope that the one drink can help her not think. 

So she does.

It kind of works.

At the very least, she doesn’t notice Olivia until about a minute or two after she shows up. She’s evidently not the type to signal her presence to the daydreamy, which Sumia is right now. She thinks through the details of the ceremony. The two brides looked radiant in a way that Sumia could never match. Sully's daughter Kjelle made a lovely if reluctant flower girl, openly asking what the point of throwing flowers was if the aisle was already outside. (Honestly, Sumia can't really fault little-kid logic in general.) 

The vows- how lovely were the vows. How lovely it was for Robin to say that from the second they met Cordelia- strict, formal, perfectionist Cordelia- they always hoped that it would lead to what was happening today. That they had been treated as separate from human for so long that many suspected that a person like them couldn’t want something like this- but Cordelia, also (unfairly) in question of her own humanity, treated them like the best person in the world. 

"You deserve the world back. And I can only hope that mine is enough."

Sumia cried at that, and she could tell that Cordelia was trying not to as she recited her own vows about all the things that she loved about Robin, was proud to call part of herself. That may have hurt Sumia a little, hearing all the compliments that Cordelia gave Robin and comparing herself negatively, but Cordelia was happy. Truly happy. 

So deep down, Sumia is too.

Even if it takes a little wine to feel it.

"Mind if I sit here?" 

Sumia jerks out of her thoughts, swiveling to meet the eyes of Olivia, the dancer from earlier, now alarmed by how sudden Sumia's movements were. She's back in the clothes that Sumia met her in, though sweat still lingers on her red face. Sumia smiles, wine glass in her hand. "Oh! Olivia! Definitely, if you don't mind." 

Olivia nods with a coy smile. "Don't worry," is all she says as she sets her food on the table and sits down. By her own volition, Sumia made everything- the baked chicken, the home-grown garden salad, the three different baked goods, and even the wedding cake itself, not cut into at the moment. Cordelia trusted her to be a marvelous chef- Sumia's talents may be limited, but cooking is definitely one of those talents. Sumia wouldn't mess it up for anything. 

"You're a good chef!" Olivia says.

Sumia knows, and yet she's still so embarrassed to have it acknowledged. "O-oh, thank you!" She toys with some of the food on her plate, noticing how small Olivia's portions are. She decides not to butt in, saying "a wedding's a big day, you know. I didn't want to mess this up." 

Olivia beams. "Certainly not. So thank you."

Sumia's not sure why Olivia thanked her, but from the way her face turns sour, it's clear that Olivia doesn't either, so she says "You're welcome! And I'm happy you liked it!" With a giggle, she adds "You know, some of it was spontaneous. Like, I figured, okay, the cake is gonna be enough sweetness for one life. I don't need to do more than one extra sweet. And then I came up with two today!" 

"I remember!" Olivia confirms with a smile. 

"Oh yeah. Uhm, sorry, I'm a rambler!" She decides it best not to mention that they came from stress-baking after the ceremony. 

Olivia blushes so naturally it's likely that she doesn't even notice. "It's fine, don't worry!" Taking a sip of wine, she says "I just wanted to say thanks!"

Sumia giggles. "Oh, of course!" Before she can stop herself, she adds "Cooking's one of the things I'm good at. And there's not a lot in that category, so…" Realizing how vulnerable she just got, all she can do is shrug, as if her eyes aren't wide with alarm.

Olivia shakes her head. "Oh, come now. You're too hard on yourself." 

Sumia doesn't want to push the subject, so she says "...sure, probably!" which in itself is too much hesitation. So she changes gears. "You did _so_ amazing dancing, by the way! I was seriously in awe!" 

Olivia blinks as if surprised. She can't be, right? Sumia's a little hazy right now, but she remembers how beautiful the dance was. Just Olivia, the stage, and songs that she kind of wants to add to her lists now. "I'm serious!" Sumia insists. "Did you pick that out especially for them?"

Olivia coughs, turning beet red. "I, uh… may have choreographed that myself." 

Sumia tries to set her wine glass down slowly. She doesn't; it sloshes but doesn't break. "No _way!_ _You_ did that?" Then she catches herself. "I mean, I believe it, but I also don't! That's amazing!" 

Olivia picks at her food. "It was my first time," she insists. "It probably wasn't actually that great. If I ever choreograph again, it'll be better." 

"Well, you definitely should. Because you're pretty incredible." 

Olivia looks blank for a moment- just a moment- before coolly taking another sip of wine. "I mean… I've been dancing since I was a kid. Really gotten into it professionally about thirteen years ago. So I know I'm good at that." She rolls her shoulders, and Sumia flinches at the popping sounds like sudden firecrackers. "Besides, with the wedding and all, I really wanted to do something special and all. Robin's an old friend of mine." 

Sumia lights up. "Oh, for _sure!_ Me too! Cordelia's my best friend, you know, and-" She stops there, blinks just enough to see tears coming from her eyes, and takes a full swig of wine. 

Olivia folds her hands above her cup, giving Sumia a look that she swears pities her. "Is everything okay, Sumia?" 

Sumia forces a smile. "Yeah… yeah, probably," she lies. She's a very ineffective liar. "Think I'm just a little tipsy. I don't drink often." 

"It's okay." Olivia doesn't fully believe her, but Sumia feels like she’s not gonna press the issue, and right now that’s enough for her. 

Sumia notices that despite Olivia's glass being nearly empty, she handles her liquor a lot better. She's probably been to a lot of galas and events- she's pretty famous, isn't she? Sumia does a little farming- that's how she got the salad- but she's far from a viticulturist. She rarely drinks because there's too much around the home to do and enjoy. Besides, she doesn't mind if Olivia drinks. People who do mind are dorks or, like, one of her moms. Cordelia was once that way, but she's loosened up. 

Olivia gestures behind her. Sure enough, Cordelia has finished half of her glass of wine, physically less tense and rigid in how she sits. "I think they're going to do, like…" She gestures more visibly as the words struggle to come to her. "Ceremonial things." With an awkward giggle, she admits "Um, I don't do weddings often. Not well enough to pay attention." 

"That's okay!" Sumia insists. "I'm just glad you stuck around today." 

Olivia blushes again. Sumia can't help but hope that she's exceptional at it- Olivia seems very composed in general. Though that's a lot to ask for… "Yeah, I mean… it's for Robin, right?" 

Sumia nods. "Yeah." So Olivia doesn't feel alone, she adds "And for Cordie." 

Olivia smiles sadly like she knows things Sumia's never said. She pushes her chair out with less than perfect grace and says "Let's see what's going on." Looking out with her hand acting as a visor, she says "I'm pretty sure they're about to cut into the cake. Which looks _amazing,_ by the way. I'm impressed." 

Sumia sputters. "Wait, you knew that was me?" 

Olivia giggles. "Lucky guess? You're a good baker. I might have to indulge a little."

"Goodness…" Sumia looks at the cake, still solid at its two feet of height in between a set of flower bouquets that she offered to cut from her garden herself; multiple colors of peonies, dahlias, and a customary circle of violets, all of them the products of Sumia trying to see what flowers would grow and what wouldn't. Maybe they just catch her eyes too much over the cake but… Olivia thinks it looks good?

Goodness indeed.

She tries not to feel _too_ flattered, but Olivia's really good at making her feel… good at things. She's not really used to it from anyone except Cordelia… and while this is, as a whole, about Cordelia… for herself, maybe it can be about Olivia too. 

Sumia gets up and joins with Olivia as they walk over to the cake. She can't help but beam. 

\---

Olivia has always taken things slow. That's why she's danced professionally for over a decade before even considering choreography. Her ultimate goal is to teach dance- as much as she loves to dance, maybe she could use a break. She's definitely veered towards independence lately. Besides, she had to learn to dance on her own. Her parents weren't about to help her and thought she was going to be a stripper after she revealed her work training to be a dancer. Coming out as gay was easier with them, though by then they barely talked. 

It doesn't matter that much. Not yet. She still doesn't feel confident in teaching dance. She honestly doesn't in what she's doing. She just doesn't want to stay where she is right now. 

She knows Robin. Robin would swear that they can sense that. That it was their intent. Olivia tries not to get too anxious when she thinks about them throwing the bouquet. In all fairness, Olivia shouldn't have stood at the front, but she’s pretty sure Robin needs a do-over because that wasn’t a bouquet toss, that was a softball pitch. That was an over-the-shoulder look preparing for launch- though the shoulder pads of their dress were high enough that they'd need it so it wasn't thrown in a field- followed by aim that was too perfect. That was Olivia being targeted. And Olivia’s not gonna lie, she’s kind of miffed. She hasn’t said anything, because if there’s one thing that she learned it’s to avoid conflict- especially at someone else’s celebration.

She’s surprisingly winded after the bouquet ceremony. Well, that or scared so much that she can’t breathe. She finds a bench just near an untamed wheat patch and settles on it, taking deep breaths. She wonders why Robin seemed so focused on her. Or _seems,_ because there’s no way this isn’t present tense. If they think Olivia needs to move faster. If they think Olivia is lonely. If they think Olivia is dull. Those three things aren’t true to Olivia. 

She thinks. 

Or hell, maybe she is running out the clock. No one lives forever and she's already three years deep into her thirties. Maybe waiting until she's around forty to really pursue her dream is taking too long. Hell, maybe she is getting a little dull. It feels like trying to be charming and living her life through everything except dance- the high life, the forced pleasantries, the hollow talent around her, the useless dates that go nowhere- is trying to make her seem more like herself than she is. And hell… maybe if she lets herself think about it… it all might add up to a very lonely life. A life where she can only really rely on herself. 

How in the hell could Robin read that, though? 

Robin was always smart. Maybe she’d forgotten that over time. Maybe they took their dwindling conversations and Olivia's social media presence and figured out her whole damn life. As Olivia looks up, Robin seems to be heading her way, taking a seat next to her as Olivia just lets it happen. 

“Hey there,” they say kindly. 

Olivia waves shyly, still submerged in her own thoughts. 

“Is something wrong?”

 _Don’t ask me that_ is her first response, as it would be when they were younger, but Olivia doesn’t let it escape her lips. Instead, she says “I don’t know… just apprehensive, I guess.” The way she says it indicates finality that she _hopes_ that Robin gets. 

Sure enough: “I understand that.” Then, quietly, as if admitting a secret: “I’m a little apprehensive myself if you want to know the truth.”

Olivia blinks. Turning to look at Robin: “Really?”

Robin nods with a smile. “I don’t think that I would have ever felt this way when we were younger. Cause, you know, that’s when I first accepted how hard it would be to get married. Especially to a woman because, well… you know, that’s how others perceived me. And when you’re young, the world seems…” They motion their own hand up and down in a wobble. “Big, you know. And especially just… realizing it. I thought I was up against a giant wall I could never break through. Like maybe if I was a girl I would appreciate being a bride better. That I was throwing away a dream I just discovered…”

Olivia wants to hug them already.

They sigh. “Never mind that. I uh… I couldn’t let it go, you know. It was something I wanted more than I felt like I should, and I thought that if I was with someone… if I married someone… you know, things would fall into place.” They shrug before Olivia can respond. “And it kind of did. It _really_ did, honestly. It just…” 

Olivia coaxes them to finish with a smile. Robin is rarely this vulnerable, but it’s a special day. They get to be. 

“It took a lot of work,” they continue. “And a lot of sacrifices. Getting to this point required a lot out of us. That’s why Cordelia said that she waited for so long to propose. I think I wanted to get hitched too fast and that’s why I waited on her because I’m just-” They throw their hands up. “I’m not patient, you know? And I’m realizing that I was wrong in expecting it to solve everything.”

Olivia tilts her head. “Really?”

Robin nods. “I mean, don’t get me wrong. It’s the best feeling in the world. This, right now… it’s everything.” They stare at the stars. “It’s not the end. And I guess that’s what nerves me out. We have lives to live, and we have problems and solutions still ahead. And this is us saying… you know, come what may… we’re ready because we have each other. We’re each other’s ammunition.”

Olivia smiles. “That’s really sweet, you know?”

At this, Robin sort of frowns. "I mean, I feel like…" Olivia watches them tap their fingers together and lets them think of their words unchallenged. "I feel like you could have told me that things aren't easy. It's hard not to see you as…" 

And that's literally the worst place Robin's thoughts could have died. How does Robin see her? Flighty? Cheap? Broken? Meaningless? Now that they’ve really discovered a new meaning, Olivia must look immaterial. Damn it, she didn't even consider what Robin thought of her all of these years later.

"Olivia, what did you think of me, like…" Robin blushes like they’re doing wrong. Whatever. Olivia will take this conversation over what could have been. "Like, back when we were friendly?" 

Olivia blushes in kind. Okay, now she might take it back and go with the hypothetical conversation. "We've _always_ been friendly," she dodges. 

Robin gives her The Eyes, those sad, full, comically, dejected eyes that Olivia kind of missed in a weird way. Only they're not being comical, and they whimper "I mean, i-it _felt_ like more than that, right?" 

Olivia shudders. It's either the cold or it isn't. "It did. Sorry about that. I guess… it feels weird to look back." And it does. To look back at her early twenties is like looking back at a different life. A question mark. Nothing made sense then. But now it makes sense, both definitions. They were friendly. But they were more than that. The two of them were a bunch of concepts that never really found answers until after they realized who they were- with each other, because of each other, adjacent to each other, or however it's defined. 

"I guess…" Olivia breaks the silence. "If you're gonna ask-"

"And I am." 

Olivia thinks harder. Not of a lie, but of the truth. "I… remember your optimism." Robin smiles weakly, eyes expectant. "I remember how driven you were. You knew that you just didn't want to stay where you were." 

"I'm impatient," Robin laughs. "It's like I said." 

Olivia giggles naturally. At this moment, it really does feel like things worked out, even if only by the skin of the night. "And I think… I wanted things to work out for you." Olivia swallows. "I really did." 

The question Robin should ask lingers in the air. Olivia doesn't want to hear it aloud. If she does, she'll crack. She can't crack now. Old Olivia would crack. She has to take control of the conversation before it takes control of her. That's how she's gotten this far in life- impressive or not. 

"I think I wanted things for you…" Olivia swallows, but better than crying if beggars can't be choosers. "That… you know, I hadn't learned to want for me." 

Robin nods with understanding like Olivia didn't just reveal a painful part of herself. Like she isn't still shaking. Like it isn't still true. Tenderly taking her hand and standing up, they say "Well, whatever it is that you want… I know you'll get it." 

Olivia isn't sure what she wants. She isn't even sure if she's supposed to stand up right then. Still, she's touched. "Thank you…" She decides to stand up and look Robin in the eye with a smile she hopes is more authentic than the ones she usually gives. "I'm happy for you. And… I've never, ever regretted a day in my life where I've known you." 

_Even if you have._

Robin doesn't know if that's a goodbye or hello. Maybe the power is in their hands. "Olivia," they drawl, touched, taking her into a hug. "Oh, you're going to make me cry again." 

Olivia giggles and the two mutually release each other after a few seconds that never veer across the line of too long like they used to, but feels otherwise like it did in those days- except now they're closer to finding out who they are. 

"I've gotta go," Robin says with a farewell wave. "Cord's not the clingy type, but…" 

_You kind of are,_ she thinks with love.

"I definitely get it." With a little shimmy: "It's your wedding! Have a great time!" 

"Thanks, Liv," Robin says back as they start to walk away. "Take care, you hear?" 

"Absolutely." Her voice and passion die down as Robin's presence disappears into the outdoor fluorescent lights beneath the white canopy, becoming a shadow nonetheless. Alone, she sits back on the bench. "You too, baby."

\---

Sumia feels kind of silly being as giddy as she is, and she's not entirely sure that Cordelia wasn't being a little intentional with the throw, but she's still happy. Still, when the two get a little alone time, Sumia teases "You totally aimed that at me. Hard." 

Cordelia shrugs it off half-heartedly, lightweight that she is. "Come now, Sumia. Do I honestly seem like I'm in the state where I could plan _anything?_ " 

Sumia giggles, hands protectively bound around the bouquet stalks. "I mean, _maybe?_ Maybe you're in the state where you think that you've got a brilliant plan that involves some sort of hot-potatoing this thing at me." 

"Yeet," Cordelia adds helpfully. 

Sumia cackles. "Girl, you're such a lightweight!" Not that she can talk; she's just glad she drank enough to form complete sentences around Cordelia. 

"Be that as it may." 

The two duck back into the canopied area. Well, Cordelia ducks, tall as she is. She looks around and deduces "Robin must be busy." 

Sumia mews sadly. "Yeah, I guess so." 

"There _is_ a lot of import to discuss," Cordelia responds. "Besides, we'll have each other for the entirety of the honeymoon." After a second, she blanches. "I don't mean that in an untoward way, certainly." 

Sumia smiles. For a brief second, she holds Cordelia's hand, then removes it before she lingers. "I know you don't." It's true. Cordelia is very chaste. It's likely from the religious influence her family had- none of whom showed up for today, sadly. The closest to family either one was able to get was Robin's adoptive sister, aloof in the side of the canopy area- restless, here but not here. 

(She was Robin's best woman. Sumia declined to be the same for Cordelia because she was just a chef and homeowner at heart. No planner, no authority figure… she's happier that Cherche took on that role than she would be. Cordelia understood that as well, as Cherche was a professional steward used to high-stress situations. Besides, there's clearly a difference between best women and best friends. She doesn't treat Cherche like this, at least, and Sumia kind of loves that.)

"You do," Cordelia muses. "Better than anyone. I appreciate it." 

"Aww, of course!" 

The two stop. Sumia doesn't plan to, and Cordelia doesn't either, but they do. When they do, Cordelia turns to face her, her face weak with emotion. Cordelia, she of harsh angles and stone face, rarely gets this soft. Sumia is a little startled but more intrigued. 

"I will admit that…" Cordelia gulps. "I did throw the bouquet towards you. It was an act of bias, yes." 

"I knew it." 

"You're very smart." 

Sumia blushes.

Cordelia suddenly gets serious. "Sumia, I can promise you that there's no ill intent or criticism in my decision in how you live your life or anything like that." After a slight pause, she adds "I do know that you tend to overthink things if you don't mind me saying so." 

Sumia gives a guilty chuckle. "Not particularly, no. I kind of do overthink a lot." Probably would have kept doing so had Cordelia said nothing.

Cordelia smiles. "Good. This is just… repayment for all that you've helped me." 

"Aw, you don't need to repay me for that," Sumia coos. "You're my best friend!" 

"As you are mine." Cordelia's voice takes on a defensive turn that Sumia isn't ready for. "Yet I fear that this is not thanks enough. That it's symbolism that I cannot fulfill on my own. And as you can imagine, it _chafes_ me to have no control over this. Genuinely, it chaps my arse." 

Sumia tries not to laugh again. The way that Cordelia can flip through emotions like a Rolodex- defensive, emotional, caring, controlling, irreverent- is so _Cordelia_ that it hurts. 

"All I want to say is…" Cordelia clears her throat. "Is that by giving this to you… it's a symbol that I want your life to go amazingly. I truly do." 

Fear grips Sumia in an instant. A feeling of anxiety takes her over that she'd ignored because she was happy and felt like it was her place to be a happy observer to her friend's happiness. No more. Out of weakness, she grabs Cordelia in a hug. "This isn't goodbye, is it?" 

Cordelia grabs her shoulders. "Of course not, dear! Absolutely not! It’s not all-or-nothing, and that's a promise. I truly hope… that you didn't fear this as a goodbye." 

The two are probably crying a little. Sumia wishes, for not the first but hopefully the last time, that Cordelia had married her. That she could make sure that Sumia had a life as amazing as her life was every time she has been near Cordelia. 

It's goodbye to some things, even if not everything. 

"It's okay," Sumia insists. "I just freaked for a moment." 

"We all have our moments." 

The crying stops as suddenly as it starts, and Sumia can see Robin depart from where she knows there to be a bench. As they walk into the light and become more visible, Sumia says "I think the dances are going to start soon!" 

Cordelia blinks. Then she groans. "I should have known that drinking was a bad idea for me. I've two left feet." 

"At least you're not as bad as me." 

" _Sumia,_ " Cordelia says as a warning. It's enough for Sumia to drop it with a sigh- just as well, Sumia supposes that she's less clumsy in recent years. Instead, she looks Cordelia up and down, six feet tall, angular features and blazing red hair, dressed in an ankle-length shining white dress with no sleeves. 

Beautiful.

Even though it brings a pang of jealousy, she's just glad that Robin recognizes it as well. 

"There's no way Robin will mind," she promises. "Just so long as you dance." 

"I just hope that with their training, they'll forgive me." 

That reminds her of Olivia. Now that she thinks about it, she can sort of see the outline of the dancer on the bench, and it brings her some comfort, a weird sense of safety. 

"They love you," Sumia promises. "It'll all work out, I promise." 

Cordelia nods. "And I them." With a smile: "Thank you, Sumia. I shouldn't be half as nervous as I am." 

“Exactly!” Sumia claps her on the shoulder. “Have some fun. It’s your frickin’ wedding, girl!”

Cordelia giggles. “Goddesses above, it is! I’ll be sure to.”

Then, without prompting: “ _Robin!_ ”

Sumia nearly chokes on air before laughing as Robin perks up. “Hold your horses, Cordie, I'm on my way!”

“I believe we’re dancing soon!” The two are still ten feet apart. Sumia finds it acceptable to squeeze out of the picture, waving back at her best friend who doesn’t notice. It’s okay. Probably.

It could be okay-er.

Olivia _is_ there on the bench. Sumia’s surprisingly tired as she sits next to her, bouquet on her lap. Olivia also seems tired, though also not at the same time. When she takes in Sumia, she smiles. “Hey there.”

Sumia smiles back, awkwardly waving. “H-hey yourself.”

She stares at her bouquet and chokes out a little sob. 

She isn’t sure why. It’s not goodbye. It’s a very kind thing. She just feels… unworthy of it. She’s always felt unworthy of Cordelia’s affections. _It’s not all or nothing,_ she said. She always says that whenever Sumia gets in her own head because when she fails, she doesn’t fail at one thing one time. She’s a failure. Yet… what is this, if not a failure? If not her own failure to be who Cordelia needed to walk through life with? No, it’s probably not that. It’s a sign of Cordelia’s appreciation. Cordelia doesn’t see her as a failure. She never has. 

So why does Sumia? 

“A-are…”

Sumia looks up into Olivia’s eyes with a jump. Olivia eyes the bouquet, her countenance flooding with curiosity and something Sumia can’t read. Still, nothing about her indicates an immediacy to explore those emotions. Feeling uncomfortable at the focus, she says “I-I’m fine.” 

“It’s okay.” 

"Hmm?" 

Olivia takes a deep breath. Did Sumia say something wrong? Not letting it linger for long, the dancer says "I… don't think you're fine and I just… wanted to say that it's okay if, you know… you're not fine right now." 

"You shouldn't worry about me," Sumia says, voice reaching for casualty that it doesn't obtain. "You know, we just met. And we're from different scenes. You shouldn't have to worry about me." 

Olivia leans up. If Sumia didn't know better, she'd say she was hurt, but Olivia's face is blank when she fully sees it. "It's a wedding," she says. "I think emotions are gonna come up for both of us."

Sumia nods. Eventually, hands tight around the bouquet like a prayer, she chokes "It's just hard sometimes." 

"Hard?" 

Sumia nods. "Just… letting go, I guess." 

She expects Olivia to judge her a little. Maybe take the implications and flush them out with Sumia's tears. Instead, Olivia surprises her. "I get that. It… I get that. It's okay. I mean it." Sumia notices that after Olivia speaks, she lets out a deep, sudden exhale, like someone is squeezing the breath out of her. Still, her eyes are kind. 

"I hope you're doing better." 

"You're very kind, Sumia." 

Sumia blushes. "Thank you." 

The two are quiet. Olivia puts something underneath the bench. Sumia elects not to snoop but notes the action. "Think they're dancing soon, right?" 

"Yeah, wedding dances and all." 

Olivia rolls her shoulders again. This time, there isn't a pop. She looks at Sumia, contemplative, hands pressing on the bench. She gestures to the canopy with her eyes and says a little too quickly “we should go dance. Ya know?”

Sumia raises her hand. “Oh my God, please let’s not, okay?”

Olivia blinks. She tries valiantly not to frown as she asks “why not?”

Sumia realizes and places both hands up defensively. “I-it’s not you! I swear! It’s that, well, I’m a total klutz. I used to be klutzier, so this is my new normal. And I really don’t wanna embarrass myself is all!”

Olivia hmms. “I understand that. Though… you seem fine to me. But I get it.” It’s quiet for a few seconds and Sumia really wants to insist that it isn’t Olivia, it’s herself that’s the problem. It always is. “Sometimes, you know… I still get a little bit of stage fright.”

“You do?”

She giggles. “You seem surprised! I was…” She gestures widely. “ _So_ shy when I was younger. You know? And when I grew up, I worked past it but it…” Suddenly going from very big to very small: “It was really hard. And sometimes I still… it’s hard to put myself out there, you know? Still, you get used to it. Say a prayer, have some faith… and let the show go on.”

Sumia just smiles. She didn’t expect to feel a flutter in her chest at that. Looking at Olivia, she thinks of what to say, but none of it feels right. 

“You should dance,” Olivia suggests. “We don’t have to go into the canopy so no one has to see. I bet we can hear the music from here.”

“Probably.”

“I won’t judge you if you trip.”

“Even though you’re actually a pro?”

A shrug. “All the better to catch you.” 

A weak giggle and blush. “Well, _one_ of us has to know what they’re doing, I guess.”

A gentle slap on the shoulder. “It’ll be fun. I promise.”

The two sit still next to each other. Somewhere along the way, their hands creep towards each other. Olivia covers Sumia’s, which makes sense. Out of the two of them, she’s always had more faith. Sumia isn’t sure why Olivia- dancer, celebrity, starlet, utter beauty- seems to have taken an interest in her, but it makes her feel… well, like somebody. 

More somebody than she’s felt in ages. 

A song starts to play. Quiet by nature and not just by distance, but not nothing. Not sad. Olivia looks at Sumia, hand on the bench prepared to get up. Sumia looks back with a smile. 

Yeah. She supposes this will work. 

The two dance. Sumia doesn’t trip or fall. She forgets that she even could. She forgets that she’s a klutz. A failure. All of her wounds are anesthetized and she really doesn’t want to stop. It’s about Olivia, who holds her so nicely as they sway under the distant fade of powerful fluorescent lights that still scrape them. Yet Sumia doesn’t panic. It feels too right to feel too extreme. 

And when the song stops and another one comes on, one less slow but largely piano-driven, they dance to that too. Olivia mouths the words like she knows it. She probably does; it seems ballroom dance-y. Sumia loves how her lips silently form the words _there’s so much more than me and you_ even though Sumia isn’t really sure that there is at that point.

Sumia doesn’t even jolt too harshly when it reaches a sudden crescendo.

She isn’t sure what happened to her.

Or what she feels when Olivia whispers _before we turn to stone_ as the music dies.

They sit on the bench after that, both tired, but as they do, Sumia notices the glimmer of flowers beneath it. She gives them sort of an odd look. She doesn’t remember planting any of those nearby, so she bends down. Then she hears a gasp, and Olivia bends down next to her. Sumia’s alarmed, looking to her side, but Olivia does nothing but apologize once. 

“It’s okay,” Sumia responds. “I just- I had to think, cause I don’t think-” She looks again and grins. “Oh, so _that’s_ why Cord had me cut so many!” 

Olivia’s smile turns uneasy. “Thanks for reminding me. I’d have left it by accident.” 

Sumia gasps. “We couldn’t have that, could we?” She watches Olivia pull it out. “Us bouquet twins have to watch out for ea-” 

Her words stop when she sees Olivia. Olivia doesn’t look too nonplussed unless she compares Olivia to _Olivia._ She’s always kept her cool around Sumia for the whole, what, six hours that they knew each other, so now that she looks a little stressed, she looks _incredibly_ stressed. When she sits with it in her lap, she acts like they're not dethorned- and Sumia made sure to. 

"Is everything okay, Olivia?" 

"Yeah," she mumbles. "I'm just thinking." 

Sumia lets her, but she's concerned. She keeps her distance because she senses that's what Olivia needs, but it doesn't happen without unnerving her to supernatural lengths. Did she screw this up? How? Well, the better question is probably _how not?_

Olivia speaks. "I… need some time to clear my head." 

Sumia forces a smile, even as the not-right weighs on her heart. "Y-yeah, that sounds right." The smile fades slowly, almost enough to look natural.

It doesn't.

"It's not you!" Olivia insists out of the blue. "Truly, it's not. It's just…" 

Sumia isn't sure if Olivia is telling the truth or letting her down slowly, but makes it convenient. "Yeah, I'll go see what the others are doing, you know?" 

"Th-thanks. I…" 

She doesn't say anything else. With a bittersweet smile, Sumia leaves, trying to make sure that she doesn't look as sad as she feels by the time she gets back. No one else needs to worry about her. Hell, she isn't even sure what she _could_ say. She's very unsure. 

Maybe she was just hoping things would get better.

\--- 

She _had_ it. 

She had control.

That's what settled Olivia. That's what got the ground to stop shaking beneath her after she talked to Robin. Despite Robin's words, it was hard not to feel like she was being pushed to do more with her life. Being judged. Being read.

Then Sumia came and…

Olivia thinks and gets so angry that she nearly takes the bouquet and throws it on the ground before remembering that Sumia left hers on the bench and she might accidentally damage the wrong one. That would be wrong to do that to her. Olivia's played with her enough.

But she didn't. Because she didn't play with her.

She didn't mean to.

"Fuck," she hisses. "Fuck, fuck, _fuck._ " 

Leave it to Olivia to not be able to build a solid connection without finding a way to fuck it up. Because she doesn't anymore. She's good at temporary things that both involved parties know will go nowhere. Even her current semi-girlfriend, Azura, is really more of a kind-but-withdrawn friend that she does romantic stuff with and occasionally sleeps with, and not exclusively (on either end). It's not gonna be permanent. Azura is how she tells herself that she's getting her act together, just slowly, slowly, so slowly until it stops. 

She loved it here. She loves it here. She loves this venue. But why? Because it’s simpler. More honest. Originally, the word Olivia used was _humble_ but that does it a disservice. Like it’s a small thing she graced with her presence. Then she realizes that she probably would have described Sumia the same way- _humble_. Is that all Olivia subconsciously treated her as? A nice lady who would be honored to have Olivia’s company?

 _No,_ she thinks emphatically. That’s not how Sumia is. Even though Olivia’s thoughts tear her down and want to insist that she was just using, just _objectifying_ Sumia, that’s not how Sumia was and that’s not how Olivia sees her. 

Okay. So how did she see Sumia?

She thinks. 

Sumia’s a farmer and a baker and she's a cute plump little thing that talks a lot without wasting time and smiles even when she doesn't mean it and always seems so surprised when Olivia compliments her. She's not used to someone putting a wall up between themselves and her own attempts at kindness. She forgot what it felt like to mean those compliments. And she isn't used to Sumia just being so… well, she’s not used to Sumia being anything since she didn't know Sumia existed until today. It's just that Sumia's so unlike everyone else she's met back in Ferox and Olivia didn't appreciate that until right now when she probably screwed it up. 

She's making Olivia weaker, and that's scary. As much as Olivia thought she had control over the situation, control over herself, control over _her,_ Sumia was dancing with her just as much. 

And then there are the bouquets. Good Naga in heaven. Olivia should have known better. The legend or whatever the hell- _Attache Bouquet_ \- is kind of a flimsy and romantic nothing unless you were, like, really trying to hook someone up. Robin couldn't have planned on it- except that even after Olivia saw that Sumia had one too, she didn't step away until now. She kept taking control and ceding control until control wasn't a thing at all.

_Fuck._

She doesn't notice that the canopy is emptying until there are only a couple of people left. She gasps, grabbing both sets of bouquets so quickly she forgets whose is whose. Does it matter? Well, maybe the one with less diameter is Sumia's because she was gripping the stems like they owed her money. 

She’ll figure it out. 

The salmon-haired woman from earlier greets her with a smile more formal than before, folding up a table with an impressive set of muscles. “Miss Olivia, correct?” 

Olivia smiles just as formally. “Just Olivia is fine.” 

“My name is Cherche.” The table folds neatly. 

“Pleasure to meet you.” With that table gone, she realizes how empty everything is. “Where did everyone go?”

Cherche sighs. “As you must imagine, the evening exploded in a blip of chaos. Nothing too substantial, but it does feel like in the span of ten minutes, everyone packed up and left.” 

“Left?” Wow. Olivia sure did miss a lot.

As though mystified, Cherche gestures grandly around her. “Like they were all led by the pied piper. Like they were not nearly as ready to call it a night as their bodies might have wanted. Only I stayed in order to fulfill my own duties, but it took a lot to resist the gravitational pull of mutual exhaustion.” With a slightly tawdry giggle, she adds “I believe that, honestly, the two brides may get more sleep tonight than they wanted.”

Olivia lets the innuendo slip by because she admits that sleep does sound nice. Then she does a double-take. “Wait, they left too?”

Cherche nods. “It’s just me, the lady of the house, and you.”

Olivia nods. She’s… surprised that she missed Robin going. It honestly just makes her feel worse, being so caught up in her feelings that she didn’t even say goodbye. Even worse, Robin didn’t expect her to. Chalk that up to another failure in Olivia’s system. 

She sets down the two bouquets atop a barrel acting as ballast for the canopy and asks “Do you and Sumia need any help? I’d be happy to.” It would distract her thoughts, at the very least. 

“I believe that Sumia knows the land better than I.” Hand on her hip, she adds “I believe that of the canopy, I am duchess, but she is the queen of the property.” 

“That’s one way to put it,” Olivia says with a short laugh. Cherche reminds her a bit of Azura- formal, in control, poised, and a bit of a show-off for the fun of it. _Maybe I should introduce the two,_ she thinks with a sneaky smile for a moment before she dismisses the thought, seeing as they live very far away from each other and Azura is kind of her girlfriend. 

“Once Sumia returns, I'll let her direct you should you both be willing." Cherche smiles, eyes closed. Olivia thinks it's cute, in a fleeting way. 

Then Cherche spies the bouquets on the barrel. "You caught _both_ of them? _Petite merde_."

Not bothering to point out that she can understand her, Olivia says "No, no, I was hanging onto one for a friend. Uhm, Sumia. So she's still here." She gulps. "Obviously."

Cherche nods with a deviant smile that Olivia doesn't think she likes. "So this is Sumia's." 

Olivia nods. She might have gulped too. 

"I assume you know about the little ritual involving the two bouquets?" 

That was definitely a gulp. 

Cherche notices. "Oh, don't put too much stock into it if you don't wish to, _mademoiselle_." Though she then flashes her own ring. "I will say… that is how myself and mine met." 

Olivia didn't even know Cherche had a wife. Or a spou- no, looking at her, it would _definitely_ be a wife. Of _course_ it was by that method. _Attache Bouquet_ is more of a Valmese thing. Not really a tradition as much as a good luck charm. Superstition, really. 

"I was prepared to brush it off," Cherche admits. "Maribelle, she is… contemptuous. In some ways, we had assumed that we wouldn't mix well. I was a cad, she a prude. Call it a blessing or curse, our friend circles are… _a_ circle, honestly. So we were forced to talk and…" With a gleam in her eye: "She is electric. To be near her was an addiction," and with a giggle: "Which was the first sign that I could not ignore her. How can you consign something you need as something you can negate? And by the deities, I still do." 

The giggle turns into a laugh. "Maribelle says I can get a little clingy at times, but she knows that she is just the same." With an off grimace, she says “She is awaiting me at a hotel we booked, but even now it feels… incorrect without Maribelle.” Laughing at herself in a strangely vulnerable way: “Ah. but look at me.”

Olivia smiles with a blush. She especially loves the way Cherche says _Mah-ree-belle_ , each syllable light with a smile hanging off of each one. It makes her wonder about the qualities in her own name. "That's really sweet. But… I don't hate Sumia. Sumia is…" Olivia finds her hands gravitating to a bouquet. "She's very kind, very talented, and very gracious." With an affectionate smirk: "A better dancer than she'll ever give herself credit for too. I guess the problem is…" 

She gently runs her thumb across a violet petal. It comes loose, causing her to let the bouquet go before she makes it worse. 

"Internal." 

Cherche nods, an understanding look in her eye. "As I said, take only as much stock in it as you want. No more, no less." 

"Thanks, Cherche." 

Not long enough after for Olivia to think of anything, Sumia comes back, a smile on her face (along with a couple of tear streaks. Olivia can't imagine her differently.) She lights up when she sees her. "Olivia!" 

" _Olivia,_ " Cherche repeats smugly. "First name basis already. _Coquine._ " 

_I can still understand you_ , Olivia wants to shout, but at least Cherche is smiling, if not a little too victoriously. "Hi, Sumia." 

"I didn't expect you to be here after everyone went all" Sumia gestures widely and then internally. "Poof, you know?" 

Olivia giggles. "I mean, I had to give you back your bouquet, you know?" 

Sumia gasps. It's a little more vaudevillian than usual but Olivia already knows that she's being very sincere. "I can't believe I forgot that. Here, let's…" Sumia finds a trash bag and puts it in her arms with no effort. It's slimy enough that Olivia wants to advise her against it, but Sumia shows no sign of struggle. "That everything, Cherche?" 

She nods. "Save for the canopy and lights themselves." 

Sumia grins. " _Thank_ you, Cherche. Now you should seriously take off too. Mari's gonna _kill_ you if you leave her at the hotel with the kids for too long." 

How on Earth did she ever think she could hook her and Azura up? "If you do not mind, Miss Sumia. I'd be as pleased to see her as she would be to see me." 

"Pfft, with two friggin' toddlers? I bet she's got you beat there." Then she cackles so hard that even Olivia joins in. Cherche is laughing too, beyond the politeness she usually shows. "Seriously, thanks for everything, girl." 

"Yeah," Olivia adds. Then, with a smirk: " _Merci._ " 

Cherche's eyes narrow for a moment, just long enough for Olivia to meet with the same _merde-_ eating grin. They're friends now, probably. "It's no problem." Fishing her keys out of her tuxedo pocket: "I bid thee a marvelous evening, _mon cheri…_ ” She smiles at Olivia. _“_ And to you, _petite merde."_

Olivia giggles until Sumia says "Aww, a nickname already! She likes you!" Then she loses it. Cherche winks then waves goodbye, keys in her hand. Sumia laughs as well, and at this point, it's abundantly clear that neither of the two knows why the other is laughing. 

"I should probably throw this out," Sumia acknowledges at last. 

"I think so." 

"I can probably get the canopy easy so don't worry about that. You can go ahead," nodding towards the bouquet: "Put them in a vase. I got a few with dead flowers. I'm not sure how you're planning to take yours with you?" 

Olivia closes her eyes. The concept of goodbye hadn't entered her mind yet. Still, she lifts the bouquets off of the barrel. 

"I'll figure it out." Turning to Sumia, she gestures to the bag and says "Now, seriously, it's coating you in slime."

Sumia giggles. "Yeah, I really should. See you on the flipside!" 

Soon, she's gone. Olivia sighs at the idea of leaving, because… really, where could she go? Why? What comes after?

Why doesn't she know? 

She walks inside of the little farmhouse and flicks the light on, walking into the kitchen. It still is rustic and humble, but it doesn't seem needy. It doesn't seem like it's waiting for magic like Olivia is. True to Sumia's word, there's a green vase on the counter- it may be closer to emerald, but Olivia's not in the mood to color chart anything- with dead lilies in it. She places presumably Sumia's bouquet in their stead without a fuss and stands against the counter, trying to figure out where to go from there.

Eventually, the lights outside slowly dim to a lull, then disappear, and by then Olivia still doesn't know.

\--- 

It wasn't at all a problem for Sumia. As soon as Olivia set foot in her house, she was a guest. She wasn't all that sure if Olivia wanted to stay there, to tell the truth, so she was a little surprised that she asked to stay over for the night. So surprised that she didn't ask why, and since it was nearly one in the morning and she hadn't left her room since, Sumia probably wasn't getting any answers.

Ah well, Sumia isn't very nosy. She’s been too busy to be. She’s been finishing packing up everything from the wedding, getting the grounds straightened up to a workable extent, and spending some time with an understandably miffed Belfire in the stables. She doesn’t mind doing work late if it calms her mind, and even though it doesn’t this time, it does enough that by the time Sumia puts on her pajamas, she can feel a difference in how much she’s overthinking here.

Besides, she's trying to figure out how on Earth she's going to progress from where she's at. She's dated a little but most of them were guys. Cordelia was the only woman she had actual affection for. Whatever, that was... okay, she's not over it, but she _is_ thinking about the future, and the future could have Olivia in it. She knows it's too much too soon to ask out a celebrity dancer from a different nation a thousand miles away, but doesn't want to just ask to be penpals. It's more like… she just wants Olivia to put a pin in it. To remember, then remember again, and then act. To know that… maybe when Olivia is settled in her heart and Sumia's is better repaired from Cordelia, they can… 

Sumia slumps on the arm of her couch so hard that her hair hits the side of a bookshelf with a thousand minuscule thwaps, barely audible over the hypnotic crackle of the fireplace. Sumia's not sure _what_ they'd do. She doesn't really _date_ women. If it wasn't for Cordie, she isn't sure she'd ever have known she liked women. And add that to everything else- the distance, the complications, the very different ways of life… it feels like they would have so far to go just to start. 

It's somewhere, at least, it's just… probably too naive and ignorant and Sumia will probably hurt herself trying to make it work, and at this point, the same rest of her life that she had before she met Olivia feels more underwhelming. She just can’t fail… whatever this is. She can’t let it pass her by. 

She can’t be a failure.

Sumia hears the creak of an internal door. It's Olivia, surely, but it's probably not important. It's probably a water or bathroom run, and she wouldn't notice if she was actually asleep, not sitting in the living room with the lamp on the lowest setting, eyes on the hallway. 

Olivia appears on the end of it, dressed in matching black silk pants and slip, cautiously walking towards Sumia with unease in every step. Aw, come on. She doesn't bite. "Kitchen's to the left!" she volunteers half-heartedly (two-thirds-heartily if she's generous.) "And, uhm, bathroom's just to the ri- oh, you just passed…" 

Olivia approaches the living room. Sumia notes that there's room on the couch next to her. Her heart skips a beat, but it's kind of happy as far as untamed anxiety goes. 

"May I…?" Olivia gestures towards the couch Sumia is sitting on. The night has stolen the confidence that she had during the day, but towards the end of their time together, it had already started draining. Sumia can't bring herself to judge- nodding and patting the seat next to her takes the little confidence that she's built up. Olivia beams. As she walks past Sumia and sits a couple of feet away, Sumia sees her shaking. 

"Couldn't sleep," she admits.

Sumia nods. "Me either. I think my mind's a little too buzzed to settle. Which sucks because I'm tired too. I could put away five more canopies or stare at the fire like a statue for five hours and honestly…" Ugh. Her giggle is quiet, nervous, and guilty. "Sorry. Rambly." 

"It's all good, Sumia." 

"It kind of sounds like you mean that?" Her surprise is evident in her voice. 

Olivia nods. It's quiet between them and surprisingly warm. It lasts for two minutes and Sumia learns to appreciate the warm body near her. Finally, Olivia speaks. "Sorry I, uhm…" she gestures at the air between them. "Sorry I pushed away and everything. I, uh…" 

Rather than let her fish for words, Sumia says "Hey, it's okay. We all need time." Olivia's eyes seem to beg for condemnation. It catches Sumia off guard. She can't even feign the ability to judge. She's just not that type of girl to put herself in a position above anyone. She'd much rather be by her side. So she compromises. "You're totally welcome, though. I’m glad you came back." 

Olivia eases for a moment. "Thanks." 

Sumia likes that rephrasing. 

Every time Olivia moves an inch closer, Sumia's internal temperature goes up a degree or ten. She's gonna be charbroiled if Olivia ever makes it to her side. Yet she stops a little short. Six inches, Sumia guesstimates. The silence gets so thick that she could hack on it, so she fishes for a remote and puts on music to a quiet setting. Olivia hmms, impressed that Sumia seems to have a sound system at all. She'll let that slide, but she wonders if Olivia is gonna stay surprised that she has any idea of what an outside world is. (Her homestead is only seven years old, after all.)

"My, uh…" Olivia sighs. "Plane ticket goes tomorrow." Sumia nods. Damn her habit of audibly gulping. "It's… non-refundable, too, so…" 

"Ya gotta go?" 

Olivia doesn't respond. She doesn't even nod her head. Sumia knows that now is the time to say something, but doesn't get the courage to say anything before Olivia speaks again.

"I, uhm… perform at a few…" She throws her far hand up. "This sounds like bragging. You probably will think- I'm sorry. I really don't- I don't mean to sound like…" She groans before Sumia can try to calm her. "Just so distant, or _pretentious_ , like… I _really_ hate it.” Is she laughing or crying? Sumia hates that she can’t tell. “It's just- it's just, I guess… natural. I just…" She slumps over herself. "I'm sorry. I'm no fun." 

Sumia can't deny that a part of her wants to look at Olivia in derision and ask _are you quite done?_ because what in the world is she talking about? All of these bad things Olivia said about herself, it's all a dead language to her. Yeah, there might be a moment or two in retrospect where she seemed too perfect and knew it and leaned into it but it's so, _so_ negligible compared to how genuinely kind and accommodating she's been for most of the night like that's who she wants to be. And Sumia can't tell if her kindness is fighting to escape the veneer or if the veneer is trying to cage it in. 

So she just responds "You're doing well, Olivia," softly enunciating every syllable of her name with the kindness that it deserves. Olivia shivers like there's room for a chill in the fire-warmed room.

"Guess they would look for me," Olivia notes, forcing herself to be cold. "It feels like the whole world is watching sometimes and, like, I'm just a dancer. I'm just a cog in these performances. These scenes." With disgust: "These beds. They can let someone else fill in those places. And they _won't._ "

"Hey." 

Olivia looks at Sumia, apologetic.

"I get it, you know? But you're pretty irreplaceable to me." 

Olivia blushes so sharply that she hides her face. Sumia giggles and Olivia weakly argues "I-it's not funny! You're so corny!" 

"I mean, if it works, it works!" Sumia speaks with charm she didn’t know she had. “Besides, you’re cute when you get flustered!” 

"Naga frickin' help me." 

Sumia steals glances at Olivia. In one of them, she's smiling. Then she stops involuntarily. "I gotta go back," she says reluctantly. 

Sumia sighs like she didn't know. "I… I know."

"I really don't want to." 

"I know." 

A choke. A single sob. "I _really_ don't." 

That's when Sumia pats the part directly next to her. "Hey, it's okay." 

Olivia finally scoots next to her. Sumia decides to be a little bold and wraps her arm around Olivia who, goodness, is tinier than she imagined. Her rose hair splays across Sumia's chest. It's nice to have another person around. 

Especially one as nice as Olivia.

"The only thing… I can say is…" Sumia speaks slowly, thinking of every patch of words before she says them. Olivia looks up expectantly, hand on Sumia's shoulder. "I mean, you're rich. Ish. More than me. At the very least, plane ticket rich. So, if you ever just need a place to get away from it all, you know…" 

Olivia breathes a little faster but tries to manage it. 

"My door's always open and I usually got food on. Is what I'm saying." 

Olivia laughs breathily, shocked and touched at once. It seems like a simple enough offer to Sumia. Maybe she's being too naive again, but hell, some of her best decisions come when she stops overthinking and feeling like an idiot. When she's less guarded.

"You might get a little spotlight," Olivia says. "People will talk."

"I considered it, kind of loosely, and…" Sumia gestures with her free hand. "It's worth it. Like, if it's a cost, it's not one I mind paying, really." 

Olivia settles against her chest. Sumia thinks and decides that she'd definitely pay a higher price to feel like this. 

Olivia's smile goes from serene to deviant. "So, uhm… I'm gonna ask it." 

"Ask what?" 

"You're gay, right?" 

Sumia's eyes widen. "Goodness, uhm…" 

The silence seems to nerve Olivia out. "I mean, I am. So I wasn't just, like-"

"Oh, I figured!" Sumia responds helpfully. "Think it passed through the grapevine." With a guilty giggle, she adds "Also, I kinda figured everyone here liked girls. Could be wrong, though!"

Olivia snorts. "I think even Sully's kid likes girls." 

Sumia cracks up. "Probably!" The two laugh, Olivia's arms tightening around Sumia. 

"So… what about Sumia?” Olivia asks teasingly. “Does... she?" 

Sumia thinks at the question. She doesn't have a clear answer to give, so she doesn't give one. "I, um… think. It's kind of hard because I've had it… bad-" That's an understatement and a half. "For a woman, and… I need a little time to draw away from that and see myself but…" 

Olivia's eyes understand her too well.

"But I think I do."

Olivia burrows into her chest. Sumia's pretty sure her elbow is digging into her boobs. It's a little uncomfortable but she can't think of anything she's liked more right now. She might later. But even then, she doubts she'll want to avoid this feeling.

"Yeah, I think I do." Then, lightbulb. Maybe one that should have lit up earlier. "Mind if I ask why you're asking that?" 

Olivia closes her eyes. Coyly, she responds "Oh, reasons." 

Sumia chuckles. Olivia's getting back to form. "That's what I figured."

Then they stop talking. It feels like a release, but Sumia isn’t sure of what.

They don't sleep perfectly through the night. At one point Sumia stretches to untangle a throw blanket from behind them to their front, haphazardly covering them. She forgets to turn off the lights or the music and in the background, she hears the words _if I say too much, it's my consequence_ when she wakes up once. It's uptempo but still calming, so she leaves it on. When it reaches morning-time, a song called _Quiet_ is playing that she can’t help but imagine Olivia dancing to, body moving with the force and grace that it did yesterday. Her own muscles ache like she's fifty and Olivia pops her joints so hard that Sumia nearly cringes inside out, but it's so strangely lovely. So human. And Sumia's sure that when Olivia leaves today, she's coming back. 

Maybe Sumia made her move without thinking to.

\---

When Olivia finally gets up in the morning, it doesn’t feel like a wedding happened yesterday. It doesn’t feel like she performed for a crowd or that a crowd of even the few that there were existed, and Robin is in a distant place in her mind. She isn’t even sure where they’re honeymooning to. It escapes her. All that she knows is that she’s on a couch gently placed against the arm and a throw pillow, there are eggs sizzling from the kitchen, and the whole room feels very homey. She looks forward to getting to know where everything is.

She pops her joints again. Sumia will probably appreciate her doing that alone. She's got a performance tomorrow evening and she's barely practiced so she's gonna be pirouetting off the tarmac. If she hadn't woken up at fucking _ten_ and didn't have to leave at one, she'd probably go back to sleep on this damn couch, but alas. She leans up and off of it, quietly walking to the kitchen.

Sure enough, Sumia is there, a sight for dull eyes. She's still in her clothes from late last night- striped cotton shirt draped over her shoulders and loose pair of sweats. She turns her head from the eggs to look at Olivia with a smile. "How do you like your coffee?" 

Olivia smirks. She hopes she didn't drool last night. "Good morning to you too." 

"Oh!" Sumia giggles. "Good morning, sleepyhead." She gestures to her own chin awkwardly and Olivia realizes that, yep, she _did_ drool. Damn it. Whatever. She wipes it off. "So how much cream in your coffee?"

"Uhm, how much cream do you have?" 

"Tons! I drink black so it's for guests." 

"I might use too much." 

"Pssh. You say that." 

Sumia reaches towards the coffeepot, but Olivia says "I'll get it. Don't worry." Sumia allows it. She hasn't stopped smiling all morning. 

"So, I can take you up to the airport if you want," Sumia says contemplatively. 

"It's a long drive. I can call a cab." 

Sumia smirks. "Olivia, I'm not _that_ deep in the sticks. It's an hour at most." 

Olivia flushes. "Ah." She kinda wishes it were longer. "Sure, then. But I'm covering gas. Don't stop me." 

“Nah, we’re going on horseback.”

Olivia blinks, mouth agape. 

“It’s economic, and poor cooped-up Belfire needs the exercise, so if you’re cool…”

Olivia weighs the pros and cons of such before she realizes that Sumia’s snickering. “Wait. Wait.” She groans. “Oh, gods damn it. It’s too early for this.” 

Sumia giggles harder. “Nah, nah, it’ll be a car. If you can deal with an old truck.”

“I’ll be _fine,_ Sumia. Don’t worry.”

"Can do, miss." 

Olivia sneaks a victorious smile and starts to prepare her coffee. Sumia, in all her infinite wisdom, has just finished making the pot, so it doesn't take her too long to pour it and sit at the table near the green vase with the bouquet in it. She looks around to see the other one in a blue, thin vase on the counter. That's when the wedding flashes back all at once, so powerfully that she has to close her eyes and let it wash over. Robin, Cordelia, Cherche's story, the dance, _Attache Bouquet,_ and if she thinks, she remembers that Robin asked her to perform. 

She's not sure why Robin singled her out. She certainly doesn't know if the bouquets mean anything. She isn't even that good with Valmese; she just gets called a lot of names. Maybe this all wants to mean more than it does. Maybe Robin wants it to. Maybe Cherche thinks it does. Maybe it does. 

Maybe she should take it a day at a time, but taking it slow and hesitantly is like admitting defeat. Like stubbornly refusing to change. Like one of these days she could wake up and it all never could have happened and the thought makes her want to panic. 

But maybe taking things a day at a time isn't taking it too slow. If it goes too fast, she'll never believe it. It'll overwhelm her. Besides, Sumia needs time too. They might just have to make sure that the days aren't empty. They just have to want it. 

Olivia does.

She hasn't touched her coffee by the time that Sumia plops a plate of fried eggs and buttered toast by its side. "Light breakfast," she admits. "I _may_ be a little hungover." Then, with a balk: "I can still totally take you, though! I just might be a little lag-" 

"Su." 

The syllable stops her ramble. "Right," she breathes. "Okay." As if hyping herself up: "Cool cool." She looks to make eye contact with Olivia, who doesn't realize that she's smiling like a dope until Sumia does, eyes closed. Olivia might have a thing for wide goofy smiles with closed eyes, she realizes with a telltale blush, hand under her chin.

Then Sumia notices the bouquet. "Oh. Oh yeah. There was a wedding yesterday." Stretching her hands above her head and cracking her knuckles: "That might be why I'm so stiff." 

Olivia withholds a crack about it coming from the couch, oddly self-conscious about insulting Sumia's _couch_. Besides, the bouquets oddly leave her fixated and speechless.

"Oh yeah." While usually boisterous, Sumia's voice is quietly revenant of the situation. "You can take the whole vase if you want." She smiles at Olivia; has she always had dimples? "My treat." 

Olivia considers it, hand gently caressing the side. It just doesn't feel right. One, it's her vase. Two… those flowers are going to watch her in her sleep, daring her to do something, shaming her for not doing anything. Olivia will try and excuse it as her never making a commitment to superstition like that excuses her never making a commitment to Sumia, and oh, how different are the two things. 

They may never get married. Maybe, but the odds are statistically very low. But _Attache Bouquet_ or not, there's still Sumia, right now, damn near guaranteed.

So she takes one dahlia, orange as the rising sun, and slots it behind her ear, the stem sticking out from behind her mane. Sumia oohs. "Cute." Olivia beams. "Got enough room in all that hair for them all?"

Olivia shakes her head. "No, no, I…” Now or never. “I need you to hold onto the rest for me, okay?" 

The silence is palatable. Olivia rethinks every word of what she said, but especially how gods damn cocky she sounded. What if that wasn't where they were heading? Well, Sumia's words seemed to indicate that they would, but- 

"You don't need to be scared." 

Sumia finally speaks. She looks windstruck, but she's beaming. Olivia meets her eyes. 

"I'll take good care of them until you come back." 

"Oh." Olivia's eyes get teary. "I, uh- thank you." 

"Of course, Olivia." 

Olivia likes the way that Sumia makes her name sound. She takes her napkin and dabs at her own eyes. The moment is so powerful. It's a way that she forgot that she could feel anymore, but… if anyone could bring that out of her, it's Sumia.

They both stand up at the same time. They've still got food and coffee left; they'll get back to that. They meet at the center of the table, left of the vase near Olivia's seat. 

Sumia swallows. "Sorry, I, uh…" 

Olivia giggles nervously. "You're fine, Su." 

"I forgot to swallow my coffee." 

Olivia smiles. That's okay. She forgot how to do this without being so damn anxious.

Sumia leans to kiss Olivia's cheek but Olivia stops her. "I don't think that'll do," she breathes. "No, no, no." She gently moves her own face, inquisitive, kind. Sumia doesn't move until Olivia kisses her. When she returns it, she verbalizes a lot of _oh_ s and _wow_ s that she doesn't intend to let loose between every short gasp of breath. Olivia tastes the bitter coffee in her lips, but she doesn't mind the taste. It's actually kind of nice. Kind of right. Kind of her. And she hopes she tastes it more often.

The two of them pull apart. Sumia giggles, blushing like a schoolgirl so rarely kissed. Olivia is too because she's had less that mattered.

"This is happening," Sumia breathes.

Olivia nods, shaky hand still caressing Sumia's face. 

Something is finally happening.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [daring yourself forward](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22609117) by [maevestrom](https://archiveofourown.org/users/maevestrom/pseuds/maevestrom)
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